I pushed my way through the crowd. The narrow corridor extended inside past more stalls with herbs, videocassettes, shoes, belts and a strange assortment of candles in the shapes of women. Then the corridor widened, continuing past a butcher shop with sheeps’ heads and unidentifiable piles of animal innards. A line of people stood waiting by a big black noisy machine stamping out tortillas. The tortillas hurtled down a conveyor belt toward eager hands.

The room opened to its full size. There was a supermarket with several checkout stands. A bookstore. A little studio for passport photos. No sign of the man I was following. It was at this time that I realized I was the only tall blonde in the place. The only blonde. I wondered if this would make surveillance more difficult. I wondered if it was too late to go back to buy the sombrero.

The music was deafening. I glanced up to where it was coming from. A balcony overlooked the entire shopping area. At the end of the tortilla line was a flight of stairs; I hurried up them. I smelled cilantro, onion and garlic. On the upper level of the building were at least half a dozen large food stalls with seating. Each food stall had a stage with mariachis competing for the strolling crowds. The place was packed with families, groups of guys getting drunk and crying in their beer about mí ranchito, couples on dates kissing and feeling at the long tables. The waitresses were busy taking orders and pushing through the crowds with plates of carnitas balanced on their arms. I mingled and kept looking for the guy with the blue baseball cap. I finally caught up with him in front of a place called Luz de Jalisco.

Pete Manzo was drinking orange soda out of a bottle while examining a display of seafood stews behind a glass counter. Finally he got a waitress’s attention and told her what he wanted. He found a chair at the end of a table and sat down.

I watched him for a few more minutes while he waited for the food. He lit a cigarette, smoked about half of it with his eyes closed, his foot tapping off time to the music. He woke up when the waitress put a bowl of something in front of him, and he ate quickly. I was about to walk over to ask him who the hell he was and why he had followed me when a man came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.